


suicide bridge

by prettyboy_bucky



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Self Harm, Strangers to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warnings, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboy_bucky/pseuds/prettyboy_bucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"you wanna kill yourself and I wanna kill myself and we both meet on this bridge that we're going to jump off but we end up talking each other out of suicide" AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	suicide bridge

**Author's Note:**

> There's kind of detailed descriptions of self harm and thoughts of suicide so if this kind of stuff triggers you, you may not want to read this.  
> I really hope this isn't offensive to anybody, I just wanted to write this au so let me know is anything bothers you about it ?  
> Other than that I hope you like it.  
> (it really isn't as big of a downer as it sounds like)

Louis stared at the plaque showing a phone number. He knew that with over 95% fatality rate the Clifton Suspension Bridge was well known as a suicide bridge.  He thought this as he stared at the small sign. Surely he should feel something. He should feel guilt for what he was about to do? Or even doubt himself a little bit? But the truth was he felt nothing. He just stood staring at the plaque. Not imagining what could happen if he phoned the number. Not reaching for his phone or thinking about what the person at the other end of the line would say to him. He wasn’t interested in the other end of the line, he wanted to go to the end of the line, and he wanted to cross it. Blinking away from the sign he walked onto the bridge looking out over the river it crossed he breathed in the smell of the cold. The cold always smelt sharp and it cut right through his skin as if he’d never done it himself.  There was gentle breeze he could feel across his body, there were gentle ripples in the water below and if he looked up he could see the grey clouds moving ever so slowly across the dark sky.  
He’d been laid in bed two hours earlier begging for sleep to take him, to just be able to sleep for a second. To try and feel nothing, if only for a moment. After burying his head into his pillow and trying not to cry in frustration over being awake, he climbed back out of bed and checked the cupboards, looking for anything that could put him to sleep. There were no sleeping pills left, and Louis tried to feel disappointed but he couldn’t even feel that. He was just numb to the world.  
He sat at his kitchen table and tried to draw a picture, he used to be able to be completely absorbed into his art but somehow tonight he could barely concentrate on holding the pen, ending up with dark scribbles across the paper, tearing it right through the middle.  
Next he was rooting through his school bag, he knew it was in there somewhere.  
Pulling out the sharpener that lived in the bottom of his bag with loose pencils and pens he used a table knife to unscrew the tiny screw that held the tiny weapon together.  
He didn’t even to try to conceal his frustration at the time it took to do it, it would be able to be fixed any minute anyway.  
Once he’d gotten it apart he threw the parts he didn’t need into the trash and rolled up his sleeves before dragging the blade across his skin. He stared at his own hand cutting open his skin and cried. Cried to feel anything. He wanted to cry in pain and cry for everything he felt but he just felt a strange calmness as he watched blood roll down his arm. He didn’t feel a thing. After so long of nights where he had to wrap his own arms around himself just to feel like he wasn’t falling apart. Nights of gut wrenching sobs into his pillow. Blinking tears away behind his fringe when he was out with friends. Times he’d draw this very same blade across his skin and then press his other hand to the wound crying when his hand turned red. Wrapping bandages around it when it was too bad to leave alone, before climbing into bed and sleeping from exhaustion. He’d fall asleep in class and then later in detention and in front of films that used to be his favourite.  
These days he could stay awake. But he’d stare at the board as his teacher talked about nothing Louis cared about. He’d stare at the words he’d written, not remembering when he’d written them. Then later when he was called out for not paying attention he’d apologise and look at the ground and would be let off because his teachers could see something wasn’t right.  
His history teacher had kept him behind to ask if everything was okay one day. And Louis had just looked him in the eyes and nodded, saying he was just tired. When in truth he would kill to be tired. He would kill to be anything.

Tonight as he sat there watching as his arm became streaked red he thought about how he would kill to be nothing. And that’s how he’d gotten there. Stood leaning over the barriers of the bridge and wondering if when he fell he’d feel a thing.  
75 metres down, which was 245 feet. He’d read up all about it, making sure it would be effective.  
_over 95% effective._  
It’d gone down from 8 to 4 deaths a year and Louis thought about the other three people who would jump off the edge of this very same bridge this year. Would they be feeling immense pain and not know what else to do?  Or would they be like Louis, numb to the whole world that this was the only thing that made any sense.  
He wished he could second guess himself as he climbed over the edge and looked down. It didn’t look that far. He thought as he sat down. He had his hands positioned next to him, ready to push himself off when he could.  
He frowned to himself as the wind picked up and whipped around his head. He was surprised he hadn’t jumped already but no matter how much he thought about it, he didn’t actually want to die. He just felt no other option.

“That’s not paint I’m guessing?” a voice suddenly said to the left of him, taking Louis by surprise  
“no” he said unable to put together any other answer. He hadn’t counted on anybody else being here.  
“What’re you doing?” The voice asked  
“oh just came out to sit on the edge of a bridge why are you here?” He said his voice thick with sarcasm.  
“well I came to jump but now you’re here” he said with painful honesty.  
Louis looked over at him and wanted to smile or talk him out of it but he just looked down again towards the water instead.  
“after 3 then?” he asked and even he wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not  
“are you serious?” the other jumper asked  
Louis thought about what he’d read then. 4 jumpers a year. And here they were sat, half of the suicidal people there would be all year. It was either the sickest joke life had ever played on him or it was just an unusual coincidence.  
“Did you know 4 people die a year by jumping off this bridge?” he surprised himself by saying  
“Really? Is that all?” The other guy asked  
“you didn’t know that? You thought there’d be more?” Louis asked and the boy nodded,  
“no I just figured the stats had to be high so I didn’t think about it too much, I’m guessing you did? Why? And also yeah life is shitty enough for more than 4 people to want out” the guy said his honesty stinging Louis slightly. As much as it could.  
“I didn’t want to jump off of a bridge where there’d be a 60% chance I’d survive. So yeah” he answered  
“I’m Louis” he added wondering if it was a lot too weird to tell anybody his name at this point  
“Harry” the other boy smiled.

 

Harry had been living with his best friend for a couple of years which was great but Niall was outgoing and had friends and friends of friends who loved him and a busy social life and a busy sex life and Harry sat inside reading or drawing or staring at the magnolia walls.  
Too many people told him a day that he should be going out and drinking and Harry really wished he lived on his own.  
He wasn’t even sure what had caused it. One day he was happy, the next he was a little less happy and it just went down day by day. Until it got the point Niall as a roommate was no longer a bad thing. He was out the house so much and as long as Harry stayed in his room there’d be nobody to walk in on him as he tear stained even the happiest books. When he drew pictures on the condensation on his window. Writing and re writing and throwing away and starting over suicide notes. He’d been bullied for his hair for a number of years but incredibly he wasn’t ashamed of that. He grew his hair long and blocked out the hate he got from it. After a while it all stopped and people actually starting respecting him for it. So it came as a surprise almost even to himself when he started resenting himself. Not being the most social butterfly definitely helped with this. It meant he didn’t have to go throw up in the restaurant toilets after a meal with friends. He would just avoid eating altogether. He would punch his fat thighs and even though he thanked god his friends didn’t question what he’d done all day, the longer the time passed where nobody noticed anything at all made Harry want more. He’d though about slicing open his thighs himself, but he was too squeamish about blood to seriously consider it. Instead he carried on shoving his fingers down his throat until he was heaving over the toilet bowl.  
Eventually he’d gotten to the point where he wouldn’t open his curtains, would barely leave his room .not wanted to see the world. The world he so venomously had come to hate.  
He stood in front of his mirror tugging at his hair he hadn’t washed for a few days. He prodded at his thighs and sucked in his face and saw everything except the dark circles under his eyes, or his thin wrists and progressively becoming more and more visible collar bones. That was why he had gone to the Clifton Suspension Bridge at midnight on a Thursday night, walking there in silence, resenting the sound his footsteps made, revelling in how the wind felt sharp and cold around his neck as his hair blew back.  
He’d passed the suicide helpline plaque. He wasn’t suicidal. He just didn’t want to live with himself. If he could be who he wanted to be he would happily continue living. The world wasn’t that bad. It just looked horrible from his eyes. His body was corrupting him into believing the world was another world’s hell and Harry had fallen victim to it.

He’d climbed over the edge and sat down, trying, begging to see the world in the way he wanted. He wanted to see the colour and the stars and the water running beneath him, he wanted to hear birds and see lights on in houses and the demon inside him had convinced him that there was no stars because Harry didn’t deserve them, there was no colour because Harry didn’t deserve it. There were no lights on because Harry was alone. The fact that it was dark and cloudy and midnight didn’t even pass through his mind.

He somehow wasted away and hour, just sat staring into the darkness, seeing shapes dance around in front of him. Until he realised he wasn’t alone.  
There was a figure climbing over the railings. Great, he could not face trying to be talked out of this right now. But no, that wasn’t it. Because this guy hadn’t looked at him. Didn’t know he was there. He just sat down. Positioning himself just as Harry had. Hands ready to push away from the side.

 

Louis looked at Harry, wondering what his reason was. Not wanting to ask but wanting to ask him to reconsider. He couldn’t cope with life but he didn’t want to be part of a due suicide.  
“Why’d ya’ do it?” Harry asked nodding at Louis’ arm  
“I wanted to feel something” Louis told him honestly. If he was going to die in a minute there was nothing wrong with a little honestly.  
“What did it feel like?” Harry asked and Louis wanted to cry at the sad innocence Harry’s voice was full of  
“nothing” Louis said again honestly  
“nothing?” Harry posed it as a question and Louis nodded.  
“it used to hurt, that why I used to do it. But nothing feels like anything these days” trying to briefly explain  
“oh” Harry looked sad, “what um.. why?” he asked and Louis frowned  
“Why does nothing feel like anything or why did I do it?” he asked and Harry nodded, “well I started it because… I don’t know, everything hurt and I wanted to mask the hurt with physical pain, which might sound stupid er…why does nothing feel like anything? I don’t know to be honest I don’t know how I can stare at my own arm covered in blood and not feel a thing” Louis explained looked towards the river.  
“you’re very honest” Harry told him and Louis laughed, it was forced and it didn’t feel like anything but he still laughed, “Well if I’m dead in ten minutes why not go out with some honesty, how long have  you been here?”  
“about an hour” Harry admitted  
“truth is I’m trying to decide if I have the balls to take the step” he said and Louis looked at him, “you know there’s a suicide helpline phone number over there right” He smiled gently and Harry smiled back “because I want to be talked out of the one thing I want and have control over?” he said and Louis couldn’t help but agree with that.  
“Why haven’t you jumped yet?” Louis asked truly curious  
“been thinking” Harry said  
“what about?” Louis asked  
“any reasons I can think of to climb back to the other side and go home” Harry smiled into space  
“what’ve you come up with?” Louis wondered out loud  
“absolutely nothing” Harry let out a small laugh that sounded incredibly sad.

“I think you should go home” Louis said surprising himself.  
“What? No, you go home” Harry retaliated  
“I’m serious, you obviously aren’t committed to this, you also have a very kind face and beautiful hair and I know I won’t have to but I don’t want anybody to see that all gross and waterlogged…” Louis explained  
“my face isn’t kind its fat” Harry said sharply and Louis exhaled slightly heavier than usual  
“so that’s your thing, eating disorder?” Louis asked quietly and Harry didn’t say anything.  
“for what it’s worth, I think you should definitely keep on living” Harry said and Louis snapped his head up to look at him  
“whys that then?” He asked more spitefully than he’d aimed for it to come out  
“Because, you say you don’t feel anything, I think all you need is someone to help you feel something”  
“if I can physically harm myself and feel absolutely nothing what makes you think someone else can help?” Louis’ tone was still spiteful  
“because maybe you need to feel a different type of something” Harry said softly and Louis looked down at the river,  
“if you jump I jump?” Harry asked  
“this isn’t titanic Harry, my life isn’t a tragic love story” Louis said sadly  
“well titanic started with someone saving someone from suicide, the tragic love story came afterwards” Harry said as if it were obvious  
“so you think my wanting an early death is too premature?” Louis asked  
“well you used the words early death so it sounds like you do yourself” Harry said and Louis realised what he was saying  
“well of course it is, isn’t that why we’re here? Because we don’t want to live our full lives?” Louis asked like that was obvious too  
“I just want a life that isn’t mine” Harry said quietly and Louis stared up at the sky, watching as the clouds drifted across the sky so effortlessly. He envied them. Everything he did was forced, he didn’t glide, he stomped and fell down stairs and took blades to his own skin and cursed at the sky and slammed doors. He wasn’t effortless. He went out of his way to punch his pillow when sleep wouldn’t take him as easily as he wanted. He yelled and threw things and then sank to floor in a pile of glass and couldn’t even feel regret for what he’d done. He purposefully tried to feel things and he thought this except suddenly he noticed a small gap and he smiled a bit more truthfully  
“harry there’s a star” he said and then watched Harry’s face as he looked up, clocking the small gap where a star was trying to shine through.  
Harry looked at Louis who was watching him, it seemed like this stranger he’d only known for ten minutes actually understood.  
“You’re stupid if you think jumping off of this bridge is the best idea” Harry said and watched to see how Louis reacted. Nothing, Harry couldn’t see anything pass across Louis’ face  
“maybe but I’m still going to” He shrugged and Harry felt slightly hurt. He’d hoped he’d been getting through to him even a little bit.  
“Go on then” He said and Louis looked back at him  
“what?” He asked  
“jump, I won’t stop you” Harry said trying to hide the panic over what he’d do if Louis actually did. Instead he just looked back at Harry and there was something there, it was small and barely there but Harry could see his words had hurt him a bit.  
“See, you won’t” Harry said simply, looking back up to where more stars seemed to be appearing.  
“I can’t with an audience” Louis tried to use an excuse but Harry shook his head at him.

Louis looked at Harry, how his eyes had changed since he’d spotted the star, how his hair was wavy and it looked soft and how he had dark circles under his eyes that were too green even in the darkness, yet his skin still looked soft.  
He just sat and watched how his expression kept changing, how his eyes were reflecting the stars and he occasionally frowned when the clouds covered the stars up before parting again.  
“Stop shutting yourself off from the world” Louis said and Harry looked over at him, that act asking a question in itself  
“you forgot the stars existed” Louis shrugged like any stranger could’ve diagnosed that.  
“no, I…” Harry started to protest  
“oh you forgot you deserved them” Louis amended and Harry looked back at the stars.  
“And you forgot there were other things to feel except pain” he said and Louis looked at the drying blood on his arm and rubbed at it slightly, doing nothing to lighten it, just adding the rusty look to his fingertips.  
Louis could feel his arm stinging slightly and he could feel how uncomfortable it felt with dried blood streaked down it. He could feel his eyes stinging and welling up little by little as he looked at Harry who looked deep in thought.

He looked down at the river that seemed to be miles away, he looked up at the sky which suddenly seemed so much closer, and he looked over at the houses all in darkness and thought about how that’s what it should be like.  
He started to think that’s where he should be, in his bed, asleep or at least trying to, not sat on a bridge that’s 75 metres high with another boy who seemed to hate himself despite being actually quite amazing.  
Louis had walked out of his apartment at 12:45am with blood still trickling down his arm without any shoes on, all with the aim in mind that he would be jumping to his death in an attempt to feel something. In an attempt to rid this world of someone it didn’t need.  
Yet somehow now he was sat thinking about how someone’s collar bones should not be so prominent, thinking about if he should climb back over the other side.

“Louis”  
“yeah Harry?”  
“you jump I jump yeah?”  
“yeah” Louis agreed knowing full well there was no way in hell he would jump if it meant Harry would too  
“how about you climb back to the other side, I climb back to the other side?” Harry seemed nervous to ask and Louis stood up awkwardly holding onto the railings.

“Louis please don’t” the fear in Harry’s voice clear, Louis knew if he jumped Harry wouldn’t necessarily follow but that would mean Harry just didn’t want _Louis_ to die?  


Louis climbed back over the barriers slowly, then holding out his hand for Harry  
“you climbed back over” Harry said in almost awe. Louis smiled at him “you’re on the wrong side of the railings” he pointed out.  
Harry gingerly pulled himself back over taking Louis’ hand to help him down the other side.

Louis was surprised when Harry pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for not jumping” he said and Louis shrugged against him, “I knew you didn’t want to die”  
“no, not for me, for you. You deserve a life” Harry said and Louis started to understand what Harry had been saying as they stood just holding each other, there was more to feel than pain.

“Wow I am so tired” Harry laughed into Louis’ ear, pulling back and taking a step towards the end of the bridge.  
“c’mon, I’m not leavin’ you here” Harry said pulling Louis’ hand.  
Louis resisted for a minute, looking over the railings wistfully, but for the first time in a while, he also felt appreciative of how the ground felt beneath his feet, and how Harry’s hand felt warm on his, despite the cold air. Before allowing Harry to pull him off and away from the bridge.  
They walked in comfortable silence along the road until they arrived at Louis’ apartment,  
“thank you, please avoid that bridge” Harry said wrapping his arms around Louis again. His arms felt strong and warm despite Harry looking so fragile and breakable.

Louis turned to go inside, “remember to look at the world” he told Harry, who smiled up at him, miming crossing his heart. Before heading away from Louis.

Louis stood by his door watching Harry before he eventually went inside. He saw the sharpener blade on his table which he picked up and threw in the trash, he also saw his reflection in the mirror and could see in the bright light of his apartment what his arm looked like. He went into the bathroom running it under hot water, watching as the red tinted water swirled down the plug hole. How, in one hour, had he gone from feeling nothing as he watched the blood seep down his arm to feeling complete pride as he watched it disappear down the drain?   
He dried his arm with a towel, wrapped a bandage around his arm and climbed into bed, falling asleep as quick as it took for his head to hit the pillow. And he dreamt he was climbing up towards the sky, instead of plummeting towards the ground.

 

After he had left Louis, Harry had headed back to his place, grateful that Niall was asleep. Hoping he hadn’t realised Harry wasn’t even home. He thought about having a shower but he saw his unmade bed looking so inviting he crawled in and slept right through to the next morning, and when he woke up, he opened his curtains.

Harry had been boycotting all of his uni classes recently but he made it to his art class today. He maybe wasn’t paying too much attention but he still went and he felt like Louis would have been proud.

Louis payed a bit of attention to his teacher who was droning on about something that happened in the 1920s. He didn’t pay enough attention to know what event it was but he heard the date which counted as something.  
As he left the building, making excuses to Liam so he could go home and sleep, because all that missed sleep was finally catching up on him, he saw Harry. He was walking on his own, with his bag across his shoulder, Louis watched him walk past and felt almost proud of Harry for going to class. He hadn’t known Harry went to this uni or any uni at all, he’d never seen him before. Although he knew why now.

It took a minute for his brain to kick In and when it did Louis ran after Harry.  
“Harry!” he called and he turned around quite suddenly causing Louis to spill part of his tea he had in the paper cup he was carrying.  
“Hi” He said and Harry smiled at him, “Louis” was all he said like he was in amazement.  
“wanna go for a drink?” Louis asked suddenly having a wave of confidence, he watched as Harry looked at the cup in Louis’ hand.  
“oh I’ve basically finished this one” Louis lied and the look on Harry’s face told him he knew it was a lie as well.  
“well then sure, sounds good” Harry smiled and Louis did a little half skip to get in time with Harry.  
“you seem happy today?” Harry asked him and Louis smiled a little more  
“I actually slept last night”  
“you feel better now?” Harry asked and Louis’ smile faltered a little  
“well better sure, _better_ no not really, everything still sucks and I threw a plate at the wall this morning and my arm bled in my sleep last night but somebody told me there is more to feel than pain so I’m trying to follow that”  Louis explained briefly.  
“Do you know what makes coming out my room actually quite good?” Harry then asked and Louis gave him a look which meant he didn’t  
“there are Louis’ out here” He smiled brightly.

 

“So how did you two meet?” Harrys mum asked the first time Harry bought Louis home.  
“We just bumped into each other one day… and realised we had a lot in common” Harry summed it up,  
“and he helped me understand what love felt like” Louis added  
“and he helped show me the world” Harry said  
“and the rest as they say, is history” louis carried on and Harry smirked  
“there was some more but that’s neither here nor there” he said  
 “who wants tea? I know Lou does” he added  
“sit your ass down styles, I got this” Louis headed into the kitchen with Anne, asking her questions like _what was Harrys favourite childhood toy?_

Gemma leaned over Harrys shoulder once they’d gone, “the way he looks at you is like complete adoration you know that right?” she asked “and you’re not much better” Harry grinned  
“I know, I love him so much”.


End file.
